Some Broken Twigs
Perhaps some measuring these thoughts of mine,

What color hair? How long the coat and thighs?

It may be true we drink the self-same wine.

OKLAHOMA

Hail Oklahoma land! O prairie plain,

There is no state more dearly loved.—All hail!

Where grassy hills and sheltered cove and vale

Rest quietly in peace—and in refrain

Our voices lift in praise and joy again;

We sing of Oklahoma land.—All hail!

Of sunny skies and even windy gale,

And wealth of growing corn and flowing grain;

Where black gold gleams and roses bloom in spring.

Here long roads stretch and grazing cow-herds roam.

We build in faith great churches and our state

With many schools, where children gaily sing.

We love our loamy fields and prairie home

And struggle onward upward, soon and late.

Hail Oklahoma land! O grassy plain,

There is no state more dearly loved.—All hail!


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